


An Afternoon of Work

by Imperial_Dragon



Series: Imperial Earth [3]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: 2770 ab urbe condita, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Litters, M/M, Non-Sexual Slavery, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Togas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:51:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperial_Dragon/pseuds/Imperial_Dragon
Summary: Valentine and his master the Emperor Gaius now have decisions to make, attend the Senate and tell people bad news. Little wonder that Valentine decides to take a mental holiday.





	1. Prandium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mossgreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/gifts).



> Inspired by [2771 ab urbe condita ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059413) by [Mossgreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen)
> 
> Thanks to [macqy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy) for the excellent beta. Much appreciated!
> 
> There is a reference to the following Latin saying: _fiat iūstitia, ruat caelum_ – let justice be done, though heaven falls.

Valentine found Gaius in his private _tablinum_ reading on his computer.

“You took your time,” Gaius said petulantly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I bought the slave boy from his master, which took ages, and then dropped the kid off at the Trajan brothel.” 

Val stood beside Gaius, who put his arm around Val and pulled him close. Val, as always, forgave Gaius his tiny fit of pique. Valentine was often the only person Gaius could express his feelings openly to, and, like a good slave, Val accepted the occasional fall out.

“All good with the victims at the hospital?” Gaius asked.

“Yes. Bruising mainly, and a broken arm. The worst is a brain injury to a citizen, which he which should recover from all right, but, well, it’s still a brain injury. How did the meeting go?”

Gaius huffed, pulling Val closer. “Much as you’d expect. Those who were going to be upset got upset, those who were happy to see the kids get into trouble kept their mouths shut. Uncle Marcus and Aunt Fidelia clutched one another and wailed about their little Poppy. Aunt Gaia and Lucilla are getting a plane now from Constantinople and will be here this afternoon. Flying Eagle Air – Gaia said that she’d rather cry on a military flight than on a commercial one.”

“And Lucilla?”

“Oooooh, pissed off. We got an entire rant on how Poppy did these things deliberately to annoy her, and how could she be Caesar if her sister was sold as a slave. Once she’d got that off her chest she was all right with the plan, if we could find suitable buyers. ‘As a sister I am grief stricken,’ she said, ‘as Caesar, go for it.’ She’ll be here to support her father and mother, anyway. She says Aunt Gaia is very upset about losing Julianus. Her little boy, she keeps on saying.”

It was true that Gaia had doted on Julianus after the death of her husband in the attempted coup five years ago. Perhaps she had doted too much.

“So much for our family.” Val said, rubbing the back of Gaius’s neck. Not surprisingly he was tight and Val started to massage his neck and shoulders. “When will the other families be told?”

“May all the gods of the Empire bless you and your magic hands,” Gaius sighed as he started to relax. “I’ve arranged a brief meeting before the Senate speech. There will be no discussion. I’m telling them what will happen as a courtesy before I make the speech. Clodia has sent this addition to the original speech which I’ve just reviewed. I want to get this sorted as soon as possible. Otherwise it will just come up again and again as a reminder of imperial arrogance, and people will also start feeling sympathetic to the stupid kids and it will be ‘Oh, you’re so cruel to sell them’. I want the message out there loud and clear: no one is above the justice of Augustus, and street violence will be punished.”

The muscles in Gaius’s neck tightened, then suddenly relaxed. “Forgive the rant; I’m getting into the mood for a speech.” 

“The Senate will not be fond of you today. All this fuss will cut into perfectly good Senatorial bath time.” Val let his shoulders go. “Isn’t it lunch time?”

On cue Gaius’s stomach rumbled.

“Damian! Lunch!” Val called.

“It’s coming,’ Damian said, appearing at the door with a tray. “Where do you want it?”

“In here will do,” Val said. He leaned close to Damian as he put the tray down on the low table. “That was very snappy.”

“Master is not pleased with the world so I didn’t want to make it worse,” Damian said quietly. “We’ve been waiting to bring the food in. Enjoy your _prandium_!”

“Very well done,” Val said to Damian as Gaius left the desk to sit at the small table. Damian smiled, pleased to get a word of praise from Valentine. The kid was going to go far.

Iason appeared at the door as if lunch had summoned him. “I’ve got the updated reports. Oh, look, _prandium_.”

He promptly sat down and filled them in on the latest information through a mouthful of bread and olives while Gaius and Val picked their way through the delicacies on the table.

“You will be glad to know that the local police did a good job in keeping the carnage to a minimum – they did their best to stop the kids from hurting too many people, and the urban cohorts let the Praetorian Guards do the actual arrests. Kept their own hands clean.” Iason took a stuffed egg. “And most of the slaves either tried to get their master or mistress away from the scene, and failed, or fluffed around waving their hands in horror. Just one boy joined in with his master. He got in a few punches.”

Val winced. A slave offering violence to a free person of any class was just asking for severe punishment, from a flogging to crucifixion.

“But I think we can keep his involvement to kicking a slave so we won’t have to go to the cross or hard labour. Apparently, the boy is out of his depth as a personal slave to a patrician lad - he was just doing as his master told him - so I’m suggesting we buy him, give him a good strapping and send him off somewhere in the countryside where he can learn a little sense or at least be out of sight when he’s stupid, but it will look like we’ve punished him. As for the accused, I’ve sent you the files and marked the ones that I think can sent to the usual public slavery and those that should be sold.”

Val rinsed his greasy fingers in the water bowl and tapped at the list on his _tabula_. Fifteen free people: seven to be sold, seven to be assigned to public slavery, and one with a question mark.

“Licinus Menenius Lanatus? Who’s he?”

Iason shrugged. “The father is a rich _equites_. A new family who’ve bought an ancient name. The boy didn’t fight. All the others agree that he wasn’t involved and only followed them to the theatre district to try to talk them out of the attack. I was thinking that we shouldn’t charge him. Just send him home with a warning.”

“Too late for that, if you mean Licinus.” Clodia swept into the room: Val always admired her ability to sweep in wearing a simple tailored tunic and Mary Janes, whereas most women needed a _stola_ and high heels to bring off the effect. She perched elegantly on a chair and poked at her _tabula_ with long fingers. “He’s been cast off by his father, who I think has been waiting for the opportunity. We’re going to have to sell or adopt him.”

“Sell him then,” Gaius said. “I may have become an accidental social worker but I don’t see that I should become a father any sooner than I need to.”

“Quite right.” Clodia popped a grape from the lunch tray in her mouth. “I’ve rescheduled, with apologies, the meeting with the British, Caledonian and Hibernian delegation you had to cancel this morning – you know the one, about exporting even more alcoholic beverages to Italy despite our own wine lake.”

“Gaius, you’d better see the Brits as soon as possible so they can leave Rome and take their weather with them,” Val snickered.

“Which reminds me to send out a message not to comment on the weather with the British, the Caledonians or the Hibernians,” Clodia said, tapping away to do just that. “It appears they have heard that joke before and don’t want to hear it again. Ever. Also I’m sending you a summary of social media comment, mostly variations of ‘Don’t worry Chicken Little, the sky won’t fall because justice will not be done’. And a review of upper class youth violence around the Empire which shows a growing problem.”

“It’s time to tackle the issue then,” Gaius said. “Not put it off. We didn’t get to be the longest lasting dynasty in Roman history by putting these problems off. And look at the clock! Toga time. Come on, Val.”

“Yes, Master.” Val stood and stretched with only a slight groan. It was time to put on his public face, to allow the love he maintained as his deepest truth to show as his façade of obedience.

Gaius gave him a wry smile. He was not the greatest fan of Val the slave boy but he knew how hard it was for Val to maintain the required subservience in public as himself alone. Slave Val could do everything that Val could do, he just had a little veil of softness between him and the world.

Val followed Master down the corridor. Master stopped suddenly and turned to cup Val’s face in his hands.

“My Valentine,” he whispered and his lips lightly brushed Val’s.

“My Gaius,” Val whispered in reply. “My Master.”

“My Valentine.” Master’s lips touched his again and then he turned and marched firmly down the corridor to the dressing room.


	2. In the purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Togas and litters. Valentine and Gaius got to the Senate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [macqy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maqcy/pseuds/maqcy) for the excellent beta. Much appreciated!

The moment Gaius stepped into the dressing room he was surrounded by slaves, led by Severus the toga master, intent on turning Gaius into Imperial Augustus. Severus glanced briefly at Valentine before turning back to Gaius. They didn’t need Val’s help so Val took off his satchel to get it ready for an excursion with his master.

He was interrupted by two slaves leaving the throng around his master and looking him up and down.

“Severus likes the tunic you are wearing,” one of them said, “but it is sadly crumpled. Do you have another like this one?”

“No,” Val said.

“Damn. It’s clean, so if we iron it you can wear it this afternoon. Take it off now.”

Val did so and one of the slaves whisked it away. The other gave him a fine silk and wool sleeved undertunic then looked him over again. 

“You’ll do. It’s not raining so Severus says you don’t need a wrap. Better not to upset the public by dressing you up too fine.”

Val reminded himself that he lived for Master and pushed his annoyance at getting wet and cold under that soft blanket of acceptance. He did have actual duties too, so he sorted out his satchel on autopilot, checking and cleaning the contents while keeping an eye on the team dressing Master.

The process of turning Gaius into Augustus was efficient. First an undertunic like Val’s, then a white tunic woven with broad stripes of gold thread.

“That’s beautiful,” Master said when he saw the tunic, and Severus beamed with pride. “Val, book the golden-blond litter slaves for today’s run to the Senate house.”

“Yes, Master,” Val said and flicked to the booking page on his _tabula_. Marcus had already booked them but Val had no compunction about dumping his booking for Master. Marcus could just choose another set – the Caledonian gingers were still available, or the Nubians, always a good solid choice.

With his gear all inspected and packed into his satchel Val could at last kneel and abandon himself to watching Master transform into Augustus. It was a pleasure for him, of course, but somewhere in the back of his mind Val knew that it was not quite so pleasant for Master. Val had his mush of serotonin, dopamine and endorphins to take the edge off; Master Gaius had his _imperium_ , his _toga picta_ , and his duty.

I have my duty, you have yours, Val thought, and let himself enjoy the arrival of the toga.

Master owned a range of purple togas but Val particularly liked this one; its deep purple maroon was intensified with just a hint of violet and the golden embroidered acanthus and laurel border was for once tasteful. It was easy to arrange too and Severus soon had it elegantly draped around Master.

The slaves brought Val’s tunic back and he slipped it on again and tied his rope belt. With his sandals on and satchel on his shoulder Val set himself into the traditional slave position behind Master, the kind sweet Master that he served with all his heart.

He was a good slave. All he needed to do was walk behind Master, alert for any indication that his services were needed. Perhaps his eyes were not lowered quite the same as other slaves but he could see what Master needed and who was around him. No need to think or to wonder, just to act in the service of his good and kind master.

But Val was almost jolted out of his role when they left the private chambers and found Iason with Susan and Tito, both dressed in plain slave tunics. They knelt as Master appeared.

Susan looked much as she usually did, sleek as a Persian leopard, but Tito –

“Who are you, and what have you done with Tito?” Master asked.

Tito’s long curly hair was pulled back from his face: that was the only thing about him that looked as usual. He wore no cosmetics, not even lip gloss, the tunic was respectable, the belt a rough rope, and he had lost his usual manner between jaunty and defiant. If anything, he looked sad. 

“He cried all over Mistress Fidelia’s _stola_ and left it smeared with mascara,” Susan said. “I may have cried on Master Marcus’s knees but I don’t wear makeup.”

Susan was a dear girl but could be insufferably smug at times.

“Iason says we have to stay at the prison until the trial, Serenity,” Tito said sullenly. “There’s no point in dressing properly before the trial.”

There must be something really wrong for Tito to be so compliant over not looking his best. Normally he was the perfect _cinaedus_ and not inclined to let anyone forget it.

“Poor Tito,” Master said. “You should have a holiday after this, once Julianus is dealt with. I’ll see you after the trial.”

Master held out his hand to be kissed and Tito eagerly leaned forward, too quickly. Tito is not a threat, Val reminded himself, but his automatic reaction shifted his weight. Tito caught his eye as he leaned forward and he stilled for an instant before moving more slowly to merely brush Master’s hand with his lips. The part of Val always ready sank back down to general watchfulness.

“And you too, Susan,” Master continued. “You won’t be kept long in the prison; I hope to have the trial tomorrow morning if all the arrangements can be made in time.”

The two slaves bowed while Master strode through the palace to the grand gate courtyard where the litter bearers knelt with the litter on their shoulders in the portico. Some were still fiddling with their earpieces, turning them on or switching off the microphones of their cochlear implants. Four of the bearers were deaf and excellent lip readers, trained to keep watch for unusual actions or words in the crowd and take action.

Next to them Master’s twenty-four lictors adjusted their _fasces_ wrapped guns and their ceremonial sashes and moved into position around the litter. Behind them gathered a posse of Imperial staff, recent Imperial _liberti_ , clients assigned to this procession, and the Britannic and Caledonian trade delegation in their ceremonial great kilts worn over Roman tunics.

Marcus and Fidelia had both chosen Nubian teams.

“Good choice, Gaius Augustus,” Marcus said wryly, nodding at the blond litter team as he walked past with his wife. Neither looked happy but at least they had each other, and Lucilla Caesar when she arrived from Constantinople. Gaia would have no one.

But that wasn’t Val’s concern: he only needed to serve Master and keep him safe.

An ImpSec operative handed Val his earpiece which he activated.

“Valentine,” today’s security team leader whispered, and Val touched the button in acknowledgement. 

Fidelia and Marcus’s teams advanced to the courtyard to let them mount their litters in view of the public. The usual crowd that gathered to watch the imperial family cheered as the imperials settled but quietened as the first two _lectica_ moved into position. They were the appetiser, now for the main course.

“Let’s go, boy,” Master said.

Valentine bowed, drew himself up and walked out into the courtyard. The bearers rose gracefully with Master’s litter on their shoulders and proceeded to the middle of the yard where they knelt on one knee.

Val focused his attention on the litter; the rest of the courtyard drifted away. He knelt beside it and leaned down on hands and knees ignoring the damp stone. Master’s footsteps sounded on the paving. He rested his foot on Val’s back for an instant before his weight pressed down and Master stepped on Val to mount the litter. Two toga slaves darted up and arranged the _toga picta_ with a few deft flicks; only once they left did Val stand.

“Hup,” the bearer leader said quietly into his microphone and the litter slaves effortlessly stood, not rocking Master in the slightest. Master waved slightly and with an “On” from the leader the slaves stepped smoothly out. 

Valentine walked with them keeping station precisely with his master. With no distractions it was easy to make his master his centre, not his own body. A trick of the mind. Master was relaxed and needed nothing from him.

So now Val could extend his attention out from his centre. It left his mind a little dreamy but he did not have to think, only to be attentive and ready.

The procession passed the gates to the street and the spectators lining the road side. The crowd was small today because of the poor weather: provincials on holiday here to gawp at the spectacle of the Serene Emperor; slaves on a break wanting free entertainment; _proletarii_ hopeful of a handout. There were a few cheers but without the alcoholic lubrication of an important festival there really wasn’t much excitement. A flick of fast movement drew his attention to a little knot of vacationers, Hibernian from the look of their tunics and cloaks worn like togas. A little girl jumped up and down enthusiastically waving a tourist SPQR flag. No threat.

Val’s attention drifted. The street flags were wet and might be slippery but the bearers were surefooted. A canopy kept the worst of the drizzle off Master while his own hair and tunic dampened from the drizzle. The lictors marched around them with solemn attention, the litter bearers scanned the crowd with no alarm. There were no threats.

But that was why Val was his Master’s good slave. He did not need to be alert to be ready for hours on end. 

Behind the Imperial litter Val heard cheers and squeals. The clients, _libertii_ and other favoured followers handed out sweets, flowers and small coins as Imperial largesse, far more interesting than the imperial person. As they made their way down the hill across the Via Nova and down to the Via Sacra the crowds in the Forum parted for the Praetorian Guard security detail and waited impatiently for the little procession to pass before getting back to their own business.

At the Temple of Vesta one of the Virgins, in her little carriage proceeded by her _lictor curiatus_ , joined the procession at the front. That was fine, the Vestal Virgins were not dangerous, but it was unusual. One of the Virgins would have been at the opening of the Senate meeting this morning but having one come now was strange.

Val let his attention drift from her to the surroundings. It always made him nervous, if he wasn’t already calm in his service, to be hemmed in by the old buildings of the forum. At least the roofscape was dominated by the security services, but if an assassin was in the crowd and attacked – he would follow his training and throw himself over his master to protect him as much as possible. The leap, the trajectory, was always there, ready to be triggered the moment he saw or heard something out of place.

That calmed Val. He was always ready whether he was in this altered state of consciousness or not. And they were well past the Temple of the Deified Caesar, crossing the open paving fronting the _Basilica Julia_ where the Senate was meeting today in the Curia.

The usual protesters and their banners gathered near the entrance: the familiar three Equālitās slaves dressed in togas with their defiant master; Paxviridis in their green palliae; joined today by the MCC _(medici contra castrationem)_ eunuchs, including the body building guy who had overdone the replacement hormones; and the ever angry Virilis Romanum woman with her slaves on their knees, who kept a careful distance from the other protesters.

All calm. They approached the entrance to the Curia and Val felt his attention drawing in from the world around to himself walking beside his master’s litter and kneeling ready to help him descend as the litter bearers’ knelt.

Damn, he’d left that space of service too soon, Val thought as the hard, gritty paving dug into his knees and hands, and he wished the Senate would have their doorstep swept more often. Gaius’s foot pressed heavily onto his back as he alighted and Val was quickly on his feet following his master up the steps to the Curia.

Gaius immediately turned to the latrine secured for his use in advance.

“Come, boy,” he said to Val. “I only need Val,” he said to the rest of his entourage.

The guard opened the door and checked inside despite a security sweep having been already done. Gauis strode in, and sighed as the door closed. “Well, fuck, are you out of that service space of yours now?”

“Yes.” Val stepped over and gently kissed Gaius. “All out of my lovely warm space and kneeling on the cold hard ground.”

“But here with me.”

“Always.” Val took his master’s hand. “It doesn’t matter where my head is, it’s with you.”

“Yes.” Gaius looked into his eyes and smiled. “Yes. I need to piss now though.”

“Urinal or bottle?” Val asked.

“Bottle.” Gaius grimaced. “I don’t feel like being flayed alive by Severus if I damage his precious toga. He’s already threatened me with a Senator’s friend.”

“You know that wearing a toga is on my con list for manumission.” Val laughed as he found the bottle and fumbled under Gaius’s tunic, enjoying the chance to feel under Gaius’s loincloth for his dick. The smooth skin, and the lightly furred skin, and the really soft, smooth skin. “What’s that? Is that your dick? Isn’t it a bit small?”

Gaius smacked Val on the top of his head. “We don’t have time now to see how big it can get.” His master’s fingers combed through his hair as he relaxed and pissed into the bottle. “Why – why did you go into that space? You haven’t done that for ages, since that last security alert and that was three – no, six months ago.”

“I don’t know.” Val wiped Gaius with a cloth, readjusted the loincloth and resettled the tunic while thinking back. Had anything worried him regarding security? He couldn’t think of anything. The stupid kids were, if not business as usual, not that much of a problem. Nothing else had happened. He’d gone to the hospital and met the victims, and there was nothing unusual about that. People got hurt every day, even if he wasn’t able to help. He thought about the young man with the brain injury (just like Aulus before he achieved divinity). And little Arruns.

“I think it was the slave I bought,” Val said, slowly, thinking it out as he spoke. “That was the first time I actually rescued someone myself. I – I’ve never had to see the abuse up close because when would anyone let me near that type of situation? For me it’s always been at a distance and – I want to be yours.” From his knees he looked up at Gaius. “I wanted to remind myself of that.”

He stood up and looked Gaius in the eyes. Years ago, after the coup where Aulus had been incapacitated and Val almost died, they had come to terms with love and need and all the shit that came with the _imperium_. Except that they had to do this over and over again.

How much easier it would be if he only had to obey Gaius and endure anything he wanted to do, like DVM and Ven. Maybe that’s why he liked those awful videos so much: a blissful easy existence of obedience and sex that he’d hate in fifteen minutes in real life

Gaius leaned over to kiss him. “You are mine, and I’m yours, and if you have to go off to la la land to remember that, well, OK. But now I need you to think – we need to sell my cousins. To trustworthy owners, who don’t abuse their slaves but will keep them under strict control.”

“So not a friend, not an enemy.” Val needed to piss too now and he used the time to consider the options. “But the buyer needs to impress the public with your intent of punishing the kids.”

“Yeah. Poppaea is the hard one – I think she does all this stupid stuff just for the publicity.”

“There must be someone out there – two someones.” Val adjusted his own tunic. “I’ll think about it.”

He opened the door to the corridor and waved in Severus. The toga master stepped past and quickly looked Gaius over.

“At least you have refrained from leaping onto the person of our master,” Severus said as he twitched the folds of the purple toga, entirely unnecessarily in Val’s opinion. “That toga was desperately crumpled.”

“One fucking mistake and I never hear the end of it,” Val growled. “I thought the idiot was pulling a gun - how was I supposed to know it was a statue of Priapus? I paid for it anyway.”

Bent over a couch, his tunic pulled up, and caned by the _lōrārĭus_ : a sacrifice to public opinion which Gaius had cut short as soon as he could. 

“At least I got to kiss your bottom better later,” Gaius said. He’d actually spent the next days fussing over Val with ice and creams until Val got sick of him. “If I am presentable, I need to get to this meeting.”

They exited the latrine and made their way to the meeting with the parents and guardians of the foolish children while Val considered the notables of Rome and their treatment of their slaves


	3. STEM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val and Gaius visit the Senate

Val followed Gaius and his escort out of the opulent atrium and into the functional corridors that passed meeting room after conference room. He ought to be focussing on Gaius’s safety, especially in the viper pit that was the Senate, but with an escort of lictors Gaius should be safe. And if his over solicitous worries for Gaius really came from emotional issues, rather than physical security, he needed to come to terms with that now.

Thanks, Arruns, for giving me a dose of insecurity, Val thought. Should he follow through on his promise to see Arruns again at the brothel if it was just going to upset him? He could excuse himself: pressure of work, security concerns – he could manufacture as many excuses as necessary but he could not deny the essential cowardice of avoiding Arruns because he upset Val. No, if he decided not to see Arruns again he needed to tell him so personally.

But Arruns wasn’t his current problem; Julianus and Poppaea were. Who in Rome could be trusted with members of the Imperial family? Or was he thinking about this the wrong way: who would make the biggest impression on the public as an owner? Someone who could be seen to treat his new slave as a slave, a reputation for strict control; someone like DVM.

Valentine almost stopped; only his own strict training kept him in his place behind his master, but Gaius glanced back at him in surprise when he gasped. Val was only able to give a distracted smile as he thought about Drusus Varius Metellus.

Obviously Varius Metellus had the credentials as a firm disciplinarian, as shown on VosTubam. Val had initiated his own investigations after he saw the first video with Ven. SIPAS had nothing bad to say, and the questioning of household slaves in the market by discrete members of ImpSec had only revealed that their master was a demanding bastard with an uncertain temper who fed and housed them well and otherwise ignored them. Since the slaves questioned had a perverse tendency to boast about their master’s severity, only to follow that with mumbled “But he’s not too bad”, he and Gaius had stopped worrying about Ven and the other household slaves and just enjoyed the videos.

Politically, Varius Metellus was perfect: conservative, not quite an Old Republican, but certainly not identified as a supporter of the Imperial system. Yet he had followed his patron, the late P. Aurelius Agrippa Constans, when Agrippa had backed the Imperial Vitruvii against the nutcase extremist wing of the Republicans. He would be constant in his loyalty, Aurelius Agrippa had said at the time, and Varius Metellus had certainly done his bit in support. Val remembered seeing him briefly amongst Agrippa’s men when they relieved Iason’s people, before Val himself was taken to hospital.

As they stopped outside the door to the conference room Val wondered if there was any reason not to sell Julianus to Varius Metellus, only to see that reason as he followed Gaius into the room: Gaia Vitruvia Mellita, Julianus’s mother.

She stood with the other parents, beside Marcus and Fidelia, looking worn and old and crumpled. She loved her son and Val knew she had tried to do her best by him. Selling Julianus to DVM might break her heart and Val didn’t know if he could do that.

Gaius saw Aunt Gaia, and he clenched his jaw, giving him an uncharacteristically grim look. Val was glad that the final decision to break her heart was not up to him.

Lucilla Caesar stood between her parents with her arms about them. Her face was impassive, giving no sign of any conflict or feelings. She hugged her parents then stepped forward to Gaius’s side, as befit the imperial heir. The two Imperatores gripped arms and stood together, a little clot of Imperial purple confronting the crowd of apprehensive relatives.

The parents, grandparents and older siblings quietened when the Emperor arrived and now waited tensely. Gaius drew himself up into his Senatorial speech pose.

“Your children have all been apprehended after assaulting and injuring Roman citizens. Previously they may have been given a judicial warning or at the most enslaved to work in the Imperial Palace in pleasant conditions or sold to the family. This has not acted as a deterrent and this violence is becoming an _annoyance_.” The audience flinched. “I will no longer tolerate this. These foolish children will be the first to benefit from my determination that all convicted criminals will serve, no matter their family. They will be sold, or sent from Rome if kept for the Imperial service.”

The audience kept silent but shuffled their feet.

“As a concession to your rank the sale will be closed and the buyers vetted – your secrets will not be sold to your enemies - but in all other regards they will be treated like any other criminal citizen. And you may be thankful for my mercy.”

Shocked silence followed until an older woman bowed. “Thank you, Augustus.”

Smart woman. Val looked over the crowd of parents and guardians. Fear, dismay, calculation all showed until they gained control of their reactions. The older woman who had spoken stepped forward, perhaps to ask a question, but was pre-empted by a man pushing forward.

Gaius nodded at him.

“Augustus, the shame my son has brought upon the name of my family is such that I intend to repudiate him.” Val could not detect any sense of shame in the man’s demeanour; instead he saw arrogance in the curl of his lips and the glitter in his eyes. “ _Gens Menenia_ can have no dealings with common brawlers. I want nothing further to do with him." 

This must be the father of Licinus Menenius Lanatus. Poor kid. Despite his stupidity in hanging out with a bunch of young thugs he didn’t deserve to be tossed out of his family, although Val couldn’t help thinking he might be better off without a father like this one.

“It is the right of a paterfamilias to regulate his household,” Gaius said. “If you wish to cast your son out you will have to do to his face according to custom. After my speech to the Senate I will visit the accused and you may visit too – all of you,” he added to the crowd. “This is your only chance. The trial will take place tomorrow morning.”

“So soon!” The crowd fell to whispering. 

“Address any questions to my secretariat,” Gaius said. “Be ready at the _Tullianum_ after I have finished here if you want to visit the accused.”

Gaius dismissed them and the guards quickly ushered them out, leaving only the Imperial family. Once they were alone Gaius pulled Aunt Gaia into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing her head into his shoulder. “But I can’t let it go this time. Marcia is using this to gather support for her election to consul and the Optimates agenda. This sort of violence is in the news at the moment all around the Empire, and I personally told those fucking kids not to get in trouble again.”

Gaia hugged him back. “I understand. I can’t say I’m happy about this but I don’t know what to do with him either.” She sounded strong but began to shake. “It’s just that thinking of my Julianus beaten and – and used for – “

She sobbed into Gaius’s shoulder for a few minutes until she quietened. “It’s for the family, I know. But it’s hard. I’m trying to keep positive and hope that the experience will actually help him.”

Marcus reached out and hugged her from behind. “Poppy’s been out of control for months and Julianus has followed right behind. Nothing we said or did reined them in. They’re only kids but these are the consequences.”

Now he was faced with the actual parental distress Val wondered whether DVM was the best owner for Julianus. He couldn’t be the only possible buyer; with another day they could surely find someone more likely to be acceptable to Gaia.

Only the family and their own guards were in the room so Val could speak up as one of Gaius’s advisors. “Can we postpone the trial, Gaius? To give us more time in selecting and vetting buyers and –”

“No.” Gaius pulled himself from the family embrace. “’It’s too dangerous. The citizen with the brain injury – what’s his name?”

To his shame Val could not immediately recall the name; he hadn’t bothered to note it when he visited. He flicked up the file. “Crispus.”

“Crispus.” Gaius sighed. “Brian damaged and apparently stable – but we know how that can end. What about my father – he lasted months after his injury only to die suddenly of a haemorrhage. If Crispus should die before the trial then we’ll have to charge the kids with murder. Do you want hard labour for life for Poppy or Julianus? If I get them off Marcia and the Optimates will hound us in the media. I want to have them all convicted and preferably sold before this Crispus has a chance to deteriorate or die.”

Val looked at the latest report from the hospital. “Crispus is fine, Gaius.”

“I know. Probably he’ll recover just fine. But do you want to risk it?” He looked at Gaia and Marcus.

“No,” Marcus said, and Gaia shook her head. They both seemed more in control now, as Gaius’s concerns had shocked them out of their sadness.

“You could approve the buyers,” Gaius offered. “I’ll send you the information –”

“No,” Gaia said sharply. “I need to be able to tell Julianus that I had nothing to do with his purchase, that it was your idea.”

“Whatever hell Poppaea is put through, I want to blame you,” Fidelia said. “Sorry, Gaius, but we’d rather you took all the blame.”

Lucilla Caesar had her arm around her mother. She hadn’t said anything. Perhaps she was trying to be invisible? That wasn’t like her usual style at all.

A message pinged on Val’s tabula. “You've kept the senators waiting for the appropriate time, Gaius. Clodia says that there’s nearly a full house, much more than would be expected for one of your usual speeches, and a big contingent attending remotely.”

“Dad, you’d better go with Mum and Aunt Gaia and show a united front in the Senate,” Lucilla said. “I’ll follow with Gaius. Family solidarity and all that.”

The older Vitruvians gathered themselves together and left the room. Val could see Meroe, Gaia’s slave, step forward to take her mistress’s hand.

“They’ll be all right,” Lucilla Caesar said. “The Vitruvii are tough.”

She sounded tired, as though she was sick of convincing herself of this. But it was true, although Val was not so sure about Poppaea and Julianus as yet. Their testing time had come though.

“I’ve been thinking about Aunt Gaia,” Lucilla continued. “Mum and Dad will be fine, I think. They have their projects and each other and, well, me. But Gaia – I’ve got to know her in Constantinople and she needs more people in her life. Meroe does too. So I thought that Tito and Susan could enter her service after a holiday, when things are more settled. They need some love and support and it would help Gaia to be needed like that.”

“You don’t think that Tito would just remind Gaia of Julianus?” Gaius asked.

“Everything is going to remind her of Julianus. She likes Tito and is ready to feel sorry for him and pamper him. Susan just needs distraction. And I thought – she could take your sister under her wing, give her something useful to do. Aula’s thirteen and needs something to keep her out of mischief. We don’t need yet another idiot getting into serious trouble.”

“Excellent suggestions, Lucy,” Gaius said. “You would be a great choice for Imperator, if it should come to that.”

Lucilla grimaced. She would do her duty, but being elevated to the position of Caesar had shown her the downsides of the role of Augustus, just as Gaius’s short time as Caesar had done.

They walked to the Imperial entrance to the Senate chamber. 

“Have you decided on who to sell the kids to?” Lucilla asked.

“No. I have an idea for Poppy but not Julianus.”

“I have an idea for him,” Val said behind them.

Gaius turned and grinned at him. “Let’s talk after the speech. I’d like to get this settled so we can get on with the sale.”

“Well, don’t tell me until you tell the parents and Aunt Gaia,” Lucilla said.

The corridors had taken on a grander and more luxurious appearance as they approached the Senate chamber but this was still a modern institutional building and built with economy in mind. It was not until they reached the antechamber that the décor even approached that appropriate to the dignity of Augustus. The room was full of lictors waiting to escort Gaius out.

Severus waited to adjust the togas, merely tweaking Gaius’s gold embroidered hem but rearranging Lucilla’s so the broad white edge fell more elegantly against the plain purple. Once he was satisfied, Gaius faced the doors, gestured for the trumpets to sound and marched through to the rostrum behind his lictors.

The Senators on their tiers of seats rose in respect as Gaius strode onto the stage. The two consuls stepped forward to take Gaius’s hand then returned to their seats either side of the lectern.

Val was not allowed on the stage. There was another exit that let him in to the body of the auditorium and he slipped through to sit inconspicuously to the side. It made him twitch to see Gaius isolated on the stage and he had to exert all his will power to relax his shoulders and pretend that Gaius was safe enough with his bodyguards.

Above him the tiers of Senators rose in a haze of white with purple stripes. There was a full house, not just the usual political hacks. M. Curtia Floriana sat near the front, alongside a contingent of the Aurelii, whose dark skin showed up very elegantly against their white togas. A glance at the attendance record on his tabula showed that Elonius Castōrēum was in attendance as expected, along with the net nanny Gaius had thrust on him after the last outburst. Elonius was attending because Gaius was going to speak on STEM education, but Val had to wonder if he would be satisfied with the impending punishment of Julianus. After all, Julianus had crashed the prototype of the new Tesla Imperial Elonius had lent to the family to try, although Val was damned if he could work out how the boy had managed that.

The room quietened as Gaius began his speech. Gaius was not a great orator. He had a good voice and reasonable delivery yet lacked the flair of someone like Marcia. But when he was passionate Gaius could seize the attention of an audience, and as Imperator his audiences always paid attention.

Val didn’t listen to the first part of the speech. It was all about extending and incentivising the client programme: harnessing the abilities of the talented marginalised citizens and slaves to more fully promote the science and industry of the Empire. He didn’t mention any heavenly kingdoms, rising suns, northern kingdoms or Transatlantic polities but everyone knew that the other great states of the world were doing their best to outshine the _Senātus Populusque Rōmānus_. The Imperial administration would take its part in promoting the glory of Rome by taking an active role in the client programme but the Emperor expected notable citizens to extend their activities.

Since he already knew this, Val took this time to review the arrangements so far. The Imperial legal department had already drawn up sale agreements, which were standard except that this sale would exempt the slave from prostitution or fathering or bearing a child, a luxury Val thought the kids would not recognise for some time. Legal also had the witnesses sorted. Hadrianus, the family of L. Messius Fabianus, Arruns and the other witnesses would be collected and brought to the court room; Crispus was still in an induced coma. He wouldn’t make it to the court but at least his condition had not deteriorated.

There were a few questions from the parents. None were about the slaves taken into custody. Typical owner indifference. That reminded Val to send Legal a note to keep the violent actions of the stupid slave Flopsy out of the court. If their owners were not going to take any responsibility for the slaves involved then Val supposed the Imperial family might as well.

And lastly he sent his assistant Josephus the requirements for the purchasers of Julianus and Poppaea and asked him to come up with a list.

Josephus messaged straight back: Drusus Varius Metallus for Julianus. Nothing yet for Poppaea.

It was validation, for what it was worth.

Gaius was on to the general benefits of an educated population, including slaves. Val leaned back and admired his master’s stamina. Val himself had been in some sort of odd headspace, where he could think but not feel, and coming out of left him disoriented. He needed time, conversation and Gaius. Meanwhile Gaius just kept on going no matter what.

“And now I must address the effects of a lack of education and discipline on the privileged children of our elite.”

Drunken fighting, a lack of gratitude for the advantages their birth had given them and a flagrant lack of respect for the lesser citizens of Rome and their property.

“And they can break the sacred laws of Rome in the knowledge that they will not be punished to the full extent of our laws. But that changes tomorrow when the accused go on trial. When they are found guilty their sentence will be enslavement, but not the comfortable captivity they may have expected. They will be sold or work for Rome and so repay their debt to the Roman people, and if they can reform their character and become true and staunch citizens then so much the better.”

Gaius was finishing his speech with a few rhetorical flourishes. Val ducked backstage to welcome him, snagging a glass of cold water and a damp cloth. When Gaius came back in Val held out the glass and looked closely at his master. Other than sweat trickling down his forehead and a tightness about his lips Gaius looked all right. But he welcomed Val wiping his face.

“ _Roma diis_ , Valentine, you are the most wonderful person in the entire world,” Gaius said as he slumped onto a chair.

Val knelt beside his chair and kissed his hand. They were not on their own or just with the household so he couldn’t do what his heart desired and pull Gaius into his arms. But his master knew and smiled gratefully at him before refusing all requests for interviews and consultation from the media and Senators.

“I'm going to the _Tullianum_ to visit my family, as is my duty,” Gaius said firmly. “I’ll walk over.”

The security team bustled into action and in a few moments they were on their way to a back entrance. Gaius pulled Val to walk beside him once out of the public view.

“I’m glad that’s over,” he said. “Now, tell me who you want to sell Julianus to.”

Val drew a deep breath. “Drusus Varius Metallus.”

Gaius choked on his laugh. “DVM? DVM!” He gasped. “Fuck Iuppiter’s golden arse!”

Gaius couldn’t speak until he got his cackling under control. “I can see why – no one will accuse us of dealing gently with my cousin, and politically he’s good, but shit!”

“We know he doesn’t break his toys either,” Val said. “We don’t have the time to find and evaluate anyone else.”

“Yeah.” Gaius began to grin again. “But it makes me feel better about Poppaea. I’m thinking of Claudia Nerina.”

Claudia Nerina? “Who is Claudia – what? The Vestal Virgin?”

“They are very private,” Gaius said. “With no publicity I think Poppy will calm down. You know the Vestals can be strict with their slaves, and just think of the chances Poppy will have to do good deeds.”

But he giggled again.

“So we plan to sell your cousin Julianus to the most notorious sexual sadist in Rome and your other cousin Poppaea to a Vestal Virgin.” Val considered this and at last the laughter bubbled up inside. “I ought to feel terrible but gods!”

“We’ll need to meet them to put the proposition fairly to them,” Gaius cautioned. “I wouldn’t want to have those kids as my slaves. Too disruptive to the household.”

“Then the meeting has to be tonight.” Val pulled out his _tabula_ and started organising. “At the House of the Vestals, Master? It will be just a little discrete. And I think we should include the senior slaves as they will be the ones who will have to deal with the _reus_. Best that they know what they are dealing with up front.”

And of course that meant that Varius Metallus would bring Ven, his _concubinus_ and secretary. At least something good would come out of this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
>  _Tullianum_ Located near the law courts, the Tullianum was used as a jail or holding cell for short periods before a trial or execution. The holding cells are all above ground; the original underground prisons are an historic site and tourist attraction  
>  _Roma diis_ Gods of Rome
> 
>  _reus_ the accused, defendant, culprit, criminal – Mossgreen chose to use this word to refer to those sentenced to slavery for a crime


	4. The Tulliarum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Serene Emperor Gaius and his slave Valentine meet the accused youngsters in prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags have changed! Please check them out.

The walk in the open air was refreshing, especially now that the drizzle was easing off and the clouds starting to break up. It cleared Val’s head. This meeting was going to be unpleasant and he wanted to be sharp and ready.

“I’ll be glad to get out of this damn toga,” Gaius said, beckoning Val to walk beside him.

Val pulled at his own tunic. He was damp and sticky but that was no cause to not fulfill his role. “I’ll start to put a dossier together on Varius Metallus and Claudia Nerina to give to Marcus and Gaia. If they see our information they might feel better about the sale.”

“Maybe.” Gaius took his hand and squeezed. “I’m not sure myself. Just thinking about the kids – do you remember that holiday in Zakynthos where Poppy got all excited about the turtles and -”

“They were twelve years old and very impressed that you had just been made Caesar,” Val said. “But those children grew up into teenagers. Stupid teenagers. I hope you aren’t having second thoughts.”

“I might be up to fifth thoughts by now,” Gaius admitted. “I know – thousands of teenagers have been enslaved as _reus_ and gone on with their lives all the better for their service. But I never expected to do this to my cousins and see them broken by their fate.”

“You don’t have to tell them personally.” Val squeezed Gaius’s hand. “There’s absolutely no need for you to torment yourself over this.”

“No? If I’m willing to condemn them to slavery I should be able to face them myself, and not leave it all to their parents.”

Gaius strode ahead impatiently, looking as if he was eager to fling himself into his duty. Val sighed and followed; tonight he would soothe any pangs of conscience.

xxxxxxx

There wasn’t really a suitable place to gather all the prisoners together. The only room big enough was the enclosed atrium right at the entrance. The parents mostly huddled to one side of the entrance way; Menenius Lanatus stood in front, hand belligerently on his hips. Val pulled out his _tabula_ to look up the Imperial Security report on him. As he thought, Menenius was a member of Virilis Romanum, an enthusiastic member, as were his older son and daughter. Licinus wasn’t.

“Bring the accused in,” Gaius ordered impatiently.

The prison guards led in the accused free citizens, unrestrained as befit their free status, so there were as many guards as prisoners and they kept a sharp eye on the prisoners. Behind him Val heard the _lictor_ bodyguard discretely ready their weapons.

The prisoners stopped well short of the visitors, shuffling nervously. Julianus and Poppaea led them, looking relieved when they saw their parents and Gaius. The tall, gangling figure of Licinus pushed through to the front beside them, his gaze fixed on his father, smiling tremulously.

The seized slaves walked behind the accused citizens in far better order. The free were kept isolated in single cells while the slaves were in a communal cage and so able to offer support to each other. Susan and Tito led, one of the boys clutching Susan’s hand: the easily led Flopsy. Susan caught Val’s eye and nodded almost imperceptibly. They were all right.

The guards halted the prisoners well back from the visitors. 

“Stand,” Gaius said sharply when the slaves began to drop to their knees and they froze before straightening. “Tomorrow morning you will all be on trial before – who is the judicial Praetor on duty?”

“Antonia Gordiana, Master.” Val had already checked. Antonia was one of the more sensible judges. She wielded her _imperium_ with discretion, and, as one of the more politically independent praetors, would be glad to impartially administer the laws of Rome.

“Who will find you guilty, because you are. Your sentence –” Gaius sucked in a breath, “will be slavery.”

There was dead silence from the accused until Julianus said, “But Gaius! You can’t do that!”

Poppaea elbowed him. “Shut up,” she hissed at him then smiled at Gaius. “But you don’t need to do that.” She looked Gaius over carefully. “Augustus. We’ve learned our lesson, haven’t we?”

The kids behind gave a quiet murmur of agreement. 

“We won’t be any further bother,” Poppaea said, standing more confidently, but Gaius raised his hand.

“Too late. I’ve heard this before, and yet I see you again under arrest. I will have respect and obedience from my family as well as the Roman people.” Gaius had himself under control now: that little bit of opposition had fired him up. “It’s already been announced in the Senate. You will all be sold or sent away from Rome to serve your term. There will be no concessions to your rank.”

“Sold?” asked one of the girls at the back. “But -”

The kids seemed bewildered more than anything, and so very young. Yet many children younger than them were sold as slaves, and for less reason. These kids had just believed that it would never happen to them. 

“I have permitted your families a visit,” Gaius said, and turned his head to look coldly at the man standing at the front of the families. “Menenius Lanatus.”

He waved the _eques_ forward and the man planted himself before his son, an ugly frown on his face. Val could barely look, knowing what was going to happen.

“Papa?” Licinus reached out eagerly to his father. “You’ve come – Papa-”

“You are not my son.” Menenius held up his right hand, palm toward Licinus, an ugly scowl twisting his face. “I cast you from _gens Menenia_ and my family. I am not your father.’

“Papa?” Licinus froze. His lips trembled and he looked desperately at his father. “Please, Papa, I’m sorry.”

“I am not your father!” Menenius snarled at Licinus. “From now on your behaviour is no reflection on the family. I’ll not have a former slave tainting our name. Once you’ve finished your time don’t bother to contact us.”

“Mama?” Licinus’s voice was barely a whimper.

“Your mother – former mother – will bear the disgrace like a proper Roman matron.” Menenius bowed to Gaius. “I must bear the news to her and the rest of the family.”

Gaius gestured to the door. “Go, then. We’ll deal with Licinus.”

Just Licinus now. With no family he had no other name, no one to help him. For this boy enslavement would mean a new start, a new family, a new life.

Still, the tears on Licinus’s cheeks were heart-breaking, rolling down his cheeks as he watched his father walk out. Val looked away; even the prison guards shifted uncomfortably and they must have seen all this before. After a staring at the door for a long moment Licinus crumpled to the ground, muffling his sobs in his hands.

Julianus pointed at Licinus. “He didn’t even do anything last night, only tried to stop us. You should let him go!”

Gaius stared Julianus down. “It’s a pity he failed then.” He turned to the parents. “Make the most of your visit. The trial will be early tomorrow morning.”

“Augustus?” The older woman who had spoken in the room in the Curia stepped forward. “The slaves, what will be done with them?”

Val could not tell if she was protective of her slave or glad to be rid of potential trouble. Still, she was the first to ask about their fate and so he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Confiscation,” Gaius said. “If you can’t look after your slaves, I’ll take them.”

At gesture from Gaius the guards began to usher the accused away to private rooms for their last contact with their families. The woman who had spoken to Gaius put her hand on Flopsy’s arm as she passed him and he managed a weak smile. 

A guard bent over Licinus and tugged him to his feet. The kid clambered up, rubbing at his eyes. Looking at the tension in his body, Val had a bad feeling about the choices he might make and stepped over to the _tesserarius_.

“Take Licinus back to his cell, and keep him under observation,” Val said quietly. “I’ll be along to see him shortly – don’t give him anything he asks for. He’s not a patrician so he’s not entitled to the ease of steel.”

Only patricians were entitled to a sharp knife by right, but often enough the guards would give in to the requests of a high-class prisoner. Licinus was - had been - a _curiales_ and an _eques_ which might gain him some inappropriate sympathy. And, cast out from his family, Licinus was likely to make the choice of despair. But he only needed to be kept alive until the trial as once enslaved suicide was not an option.

Val stopped by Susan. “Can I bring Licinus to you later? I think he will benefit from some good advice.”

“Sure. Just him, though. I’m not offering free slavery induction advice to everyone.” But Susan smirked at him with a wrinkle of her nose, then sighed. “He’s a nice boy and doesn’t deserve this. Find him a good master, Valentine, and I think he’ll benefit the most from his new life.”

The other families and the slaves left the room, leaving the Imperial family and guards alone. Val stood behind Gaius again, and leaned over to his ear.

“I’ll probably leave before you are finished here and see Licinus. Don’t put yourself through this for too long, _domine_ , and I’ll see you back at the palace.”

Gaius nodded and Val returned to keeping a wary eye on the two cousins. They were most unlikely to physically attack, although with so many new things happening Val couldn’t entirely discount that, but he knew that the emotional assault the two would mount against Gaius would be grueling. 

The cousins glowered at Gaius and the rest of the family before attempting to school their expressions to be more pleasant. They shared the same dark good looks as the rest of the family and Val found it disturbing to see someone who looked physically so much like Gaius as Julianus did in this situation.

“Gaius, you don’t need to do this.” Poppaea reached out her hands with a gesture nicely combining contrition, pleading and indignation. She’d taken notice in her classes on rhetoric. “I know we’ve been stupid but honestly I’ve thought a lot since being arrested and I know you are right. We’ve pushed and – gods, Gaius, I don’t want to be a slave.”

She covered her face and started sobbing; hard wracking sobs wrenched from deep inside. It sounded genuine and, to his surprise, Val believed her. Obviously she was trying her hardest to tug at Gaius’s heartstrings but that didn’t mean she hadn’t learnt her lesson. It was a shame it was too late.

“You won’t do it, will you?” Julianus asked. His eyes were swollen and red but right now he kept his composure.

“Yes, I will,” Gaius said. He looked hard and determined. “And you will be sold.”

“Gaius, no!” Poppaea screamed. Her breath caught and she stopped crying, and breathing. “Gods, no – we’ll be good-.”

“I don’t believe you. And it doesn’t matter anyway because it's not all about you.”

“But you can get us off, pardon us or something.” Julianus looked genuinely puzzled. “I mean, you’re the fucking Emperor, you have unlimited _imperium_ , you can do what you like.”

“Oh, I wish.” Gaius snorted. “And I could dismiss the charges, but I won’t. Why should I spend the family’s - _my_ – hard earned political capital on a bunch of fucking juvenile punks who can’t work out when enough is enough. I told you, Poppy, after you were found on Iuppiter’s altar with that boy, and after the fire and – _Roma diis_ , you’re just as bad Julianus! Marcia and the Optimates want to crack down on proletarian freedoms under cover of cracking down on street violence, and you’ve just given them a free hand with your stunt so I’m fixing this problem the best I can. And if that boy dies in hospital – I can’t have the members of the family sentenced to hard labour for life - ”

Gaius was so angry he was set for a really good diatribe. Val was glad to see it, and he decided to leave while Gaius was on a roll. He touched Gaius’s hand and turned to leave, only to be distracted by a wink from Lucilla. Val smiled back at her; they’d all get through this together.

xxxxxxx

Licinus leapt to his feet when Val entered his small cell. He had been sitting on the narrow bed. The cells really were small: no one stayed long here in the _carcerem_ , only a few days at most before the trial.

“Who are you?” Licinus asked, backing up against the wall. “I saw you with the Imperial family but – are you a slave?”

The fate creeping closer had obviously sensitised Licinus to the status of people around him.

“Yes, I’m Valentine, Gaius Augustus’s personal slave. Call me – Valentine.” Valentine would be better than Val for this frightened young man, more authoritative when Licinus needed direction.

He stood by the door waiting for Licinus to invite him in but the boy just looked confused.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Licinus asked finally.

“You are still a free man, and I’m a slave.” Valentine sat down on the bed now though, having made his point. “And I need to follow the rules of slave behaviour with you. Until the trial, then everything changes.” Licinus flinched and looked away. “How are you? That was a pretty harsh thing for your father to do.”

“I should have expected it. Father’s been threatening it for a while. I just never expected him to go through with it.” Finally Licinus looked up at Valentine. “No, he’s not my father. He’s Men-Menenius Lanatus. I’ve got no one now, no one to go back to.”

The kid just looked lost. He had the height of his father and something of his harsh features, but still soft with youth and right now ugly with distress. At least he’d calmed down even if just from being very tired. Not too much sympathy, then, and a bracing dose of common sense: that’s what Licinus needed.

“That’s why we decided to sell you,” Valentine said. “I know you didn’t take part in the assault but we heard your father was about to repudiate you so selling you seemed expedient. I take it you have had trouble with your father for a long time?”

“I can’t get on with him. He’s really into Virilis Romanum and I argued with him. He’s always on about being a man and standing up for your beliefs – except when you disagree with him.” Licinus sounded bitter and even more defeatist.

“Then it’s time for a change in your life, and slavery will certainly do that.” Valentine projected some enthusiasm into his voice. “We’ll sell you to someone who will treat you right and I think that with a willing attitude and some hard work you’ll find yourself with a whole new life. As you will be _reus_ it’s only five years.”

Licinus looked even more bewildered. “I don’t see how being made a slave will help me.”

“It’s not a cure for an unhappy life that I would recommend,” Valentine said dryly. He looked Licinus up and down. Now that the boy had something to think about he stood up straighter and looked more lively. ‘But it’s what you have, so make the best of it. Unless – have you considered asking for a blade? It is your only escape and you are not accused of _crimina publica_ so the guards might give you one. If you really can’t stand being enslaved that’s the only way out.”

“No, I mean, just for a moment.” Licinus hunched up again. “I’m too much of a coward to do that. My fa- Menenius would expect it.”

“Thank the gods you’ve got more sense than him!” Valentine stood up and took his hand. “I can help you, if you are willing to accept it.”

Licinus looked down at their clasped hands and tightened his grip. The poor kid was frightened and needed the comfort and Valentine hoped it encouraged him to accept the offer.

“Yes, please. Thank you, Valentine.” It was only a whisper but Valentine sagged with relief.

“I’ll take you to the slaves imprisoned here and let you stay with them. You might have to leave at night, and you’ll have to join the free accused at the trial, of course, but they can give you advice, tell you how to behave. You didn’t have a slave at the brawl so I’ll ask Susan and Tito to look after you. It’ll be better than here, on your own, with too much time to think.”

Licinus looked around the tiny, barren cell. “Aren’t the slaves locked up too?”

“Yes, but in a communal cell. The guards will treat you with less respect but it won’t be as lonely.”

Eventually Licinus nodded and Valentine swung into action. He contacted the _tesserarius_ of the guard and arranged for Licinus’s custody change.

“But he doesn’t have to be restrained unless he fights, sir,” Valentine reminded the guard.

“Not until he’s enslaved,” the guard said, leading the way upstairs. “You need to listen when the other slaves tell you how to behave,” he said to Licinus in a fatherly way.

Licinus just cowered closer to Valentine. The guard sighed but said nothing; when he reached out to open the door to the slave pen his sleeve pulled up to show scars on his wrist. A freedman then, and one who had been harshly treated. Valentine smiled at him and took note of his ID number to arrange a commendation.

The slaves were kept in a large room with mattresses on a long ledge on one side with a barred wall onto the corridor. When the cage door opened the slaves lounging on their beds leapt to their feet and stood ready. Licinus gulped and Valentine could see him realise that this would be required of him from now on.

The guard did not enter but nodded to Valentine to take Licinus in. The slaves relaxed but kept a wary eye on the guard who stepped down the corridor and out of sight. The caged slaves relaxed.

“Susan, this is Licinus,” Valentine said. “Look after him, will you?”

“Of course, Val,” she said, smiling gently at Licinus and taking his hand to pull him close.

Tito rolled his eyes. “Welcome to the zoo, kid. Hey, have you decided on the buyers yet, Val?”

“Some. I’m going to arrange a meeting for tonight.”

“And what about _us?_ ” Tito indicated the thirteen slaves.

“You’ll be out tomorrow,” Valentine said.

“Oh, good. I want to get dressed properly.” Tito sprawled onto his mattress. Valentine was glad he seemed to be recovering and returning to his usual fastidious self. “And Flopsy?”

Young Flopsy, the most pitiful excuse for a violent slave Valentine had ever seen, looked down at his clasped hands.

“I didn’t mean to,” he muttered. 

Valentine sighed at the overused phrase, undoubtedly being repeated throughout the building right now. “We know, and we’ll do our best for you, but I can’t promise a pain free outcome.”

Flopsy grimaced and nodded tightly, and Tito took his hands. Susan sighed and waved at the cage door.

“Don’t you need to be off organising some ghastly fate for our old masters? We’ll look after these kids.”

Susan and Tito were far worthier members of the _familia imperatoria_ than Poppaea and Julianus: they did their duty to the people of the empire no matter what. Valentine was grateful that he needn’t worry about the welfare of the slaves with Susan and Tito looking out for them.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow at the trial. _amicus vale_!”

With a wave Valentine left the cage, already thinking of the letters and emails he needed to send for tonight’s meeting with Claudia Nerina the Vestal Virgin and Dr. Varius Metallus the sexual entrepreneur. And Ven. Valentine grinned and quickened his pace, heading for the car waiting to take him back to the palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  _Tullianum_ Located near the law courts, the Tullianum was used as a jail or holding cell for short periods before a trial or execution. The holding cells are all above ground; the original underground prisons are an historic site and tourist attraction
> 
>  _reus_ the accused, defendant, culprit, criminal – Mossgreen chose to use this word to refer to those sentenced to slavery for a crime
> 
>  _tesserarius_ administrative assistant, officer of the watch, (like a U.K. corporal) Originally a Legionary rank  
>     
>  _curiales_ nonhereditary aristocracy, with similar privileges to the patricians but not as prestigious  
>     
>  _equites_ Well off to rich citizens, financially just short of the senatorial class
> 
>  _Roma diis_ Gods of Rome
> 
>  _carcerem_ gaol
> 
>  _crimina publica_ "crimes against the public", including treason and political corruption. The penalty on conviction was usually death, but sometimes other severe penalties were used
> 
>  _familia imperatoria_ Imperial family, which includes the slaves

**Author's Note:**

> Translations  
>    
>  _tablinum_ study, an office for the _dominus_
> 
>  _prandium_ The mid-day meal, a light meal to hold them over until _cena_ , dinner
> 
>  _equites_ Well off to rich citizens, financially just short of the senatorial class
> 
>  _stola_ Women's dress, worn over a tunic. A garment worn by Roman matrons that symbolised their modesty and chastity, comprising two rectangular lengths of cloth joined by brooches or fastener allowing the wearer to be draped in elegant and concealing folds
> 
>  _imperium_ power to command
> 
>  _toga picta_ purple toga permitted only to the Emperor or his heirs
> 
>  _cinaedus_ a hard word to translate, it refers to the receptive male in a m/m relationship. I have generally translated it 'fucktoy'. From Wikipedia: a derogatory word denoting a male who was gender-deviant; his choice of sex acts, or preference in sexual partner, was secondary to his perceived deficiencies as a "man" ( _vir_ )
> 
>  _fasces_ a bound bundle of wooden rods. The _fasces lictoriae_ ("bundles of the lictors") symbolised power and authority.
> 
>  _liberti_ freedmen or women
> 
>  _proletarii_ lowest class citizen, serving the state only by fathering children, day labourer
> 
>  _lictor_ a bodyguard to magistrates who held _imperium_
> 
>  _lictor curiatus_ a special kind of lictor who did not carry rods or fasces and whose main tasks were religious
> 
>  _lectica_ litter
> 
>  _medici contra castrationem_ Doctors Against Castration
> 
> Virilis Romanum ‘manly Romans’, a conservative pressure group who want to return the Empire to its Golden Age somewhen in the 8th century when men were men and slaves were slaves
> 
>  _lōrārĭus_ flogger, slave assigned to punishing other slaves in a large household or as a service to owners who do not want to punish their slaves themselves


End file.
